Lost and Found: An OTP Short

2011

Matsumoto Residence

Tokyo, Japan

“I want you to find her for me.”

Kenichi Matsumoto raised a brow as he idly flipped the newspaper to the next page. “Oh? Who is it this time?” he lifted his eyes to Matt, who was standing in front of his desk, arms folded over his chest and mouth set into a thin line.

“The police officer who nearly caught me a few nights ago.”

“Ah, but I did.” Matsumoto set down his paper (ignoring the stunned look on Matt’s face) and took a paper out of a manila envelope, handing it to him with a small smile on his youthful face. “I suspected that you wanted to know who she was.”

Matt was silent as he took the paper, eyes flickering to the upper right – where a picture was pasted – and Kenichi noticed his fingers tighten around the paper, the ginger staying silent but nevertheless trying to conceal his emotions. “Well?”

“…’well’ what?”

“Are you going to make a move on this one?” once again ignoring the look on his subordinate’s face, Kenichi leaned back and watched as Matt struggled to compose himself. “I’m not judging you for it. She looks like a beauty, after all. And she’s smart. Quite young, but that shouldn’t be a problem,” he went on, not noticing Matt’s glare turn a shade darker with each compliment he fed.

“You’re not going to touch her,” he spat. “She’s–”

“She’s what?”

Matt found himself biting his lip to prevent himself from revealing any more information to the Japanese, who patiently waited for his reply. “…she’s someone I know,” he answered stiffly, eyes moving to read the woman’s file once more. “I met her years ago.”

Kenichi nodded thoughtfully. “Understandable. I’ll let you keep that,” he gestured towards the thin paper in Matt’s hands, “And you can study a little more about her. Of course,” he added, “I didn’t add her address or her phone number. I didn’t teach you to be a stalker,” he said dryly, and the man’s cheeks flushed red.

“I wasn’t going to stalk her,” he defended, but Kenichi waved if off.

“Yes, yes, whatever. You’re dismissed for the night.”

*****

He smoked outside his apartment.

Matt glanced again at her picture. The image of a smiling woman with black hair greeted him, and he found himself looking at the lady’s familiar green eyes. Something in his memory poked at his mind and he frowned slightly, remembering a younger girl who was fifteen, constantly walking into a room, then coming out with a blonde girl whisking her away before anyone could stare.

Another memory came to mind.

He was fourteen, bearing a box of chocolates in his hand. He had promptly left it on the small table outside her door, a small card attached on the top. Matt remembered seeing her smile upon catching sight of the sweets; it made his stomach turn, even years later.

The information read:

Name: Maxwell, Arianne Heather M.
Birth Date: January 26, 1992
Blood Type: A

Place of Birth: Winchester, England
Current Residential Area: Tokyo, Japan
Current Occupation: Police Agent

Father: Jonathan Maxwell, deceased
Mother: Elizabeth Maxwell (nee Meyer), deceased
Siblings: N/A

And so on. Matt frowned in particular at the second set of information and sighed quietly, wondering how she was.

Where she was.

*****

Kenichi sighed deeply to himself, drinking from his glass of brandy and closing his eyes. He thought to himself quietly, deeply. If Matt were to find this woman, to meet her and get to know her...

...what would happen then? 

His thoughts raced. 

It would be another person to handle, another identity to protect, given their current situation. An irritated sigh left his lips at the thought. 

How many people did he sacrifice?

How many more would he sacrifice?

...all for the sake of a friend finding someone he wanted?

Opening his eyes, Kenichi Matsumoto gave a frown and glanced back at the bottle, resolving to pour himself another drink. As he took a sip, he formulated different outcomes - small outcomes - and a way to prevent each and every one of them.

At the end of his drink, he found himself leaning towards preservation.